Art In My Heart
by Kendarrr
Summary: Rachel finds Quinn in the Art room, starting a friendship that no one really expected. But of course, as time passed, evolution did as well. Rachel sees how Quinn's talent evolved since she was fourteen, and how feelings changed along with skill.


_So I think it's been a while. And I sort of feel bad. But whoever said summer is a time for fanfics is a liar! I just can't seem to find any inspiration while at home. Which means I have no life. But whatevs~ BUT I'M A SLOPPPY KID. This is unacceptable. I'm ashamed of myself, but do enjoy. I listened to Clara C's album, 'Art In My Heart' while writing this. You can say this fic is inspired by the album, but the song Quinn sings? Yeah, no. I wrote it._

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><p>Quinn Fabray knew she owned McKinley High School as she walked across the sticky floors of the hallways. The squelching against the soles of her grey Chuck Taylors melded with the unknown substances on the floor. She walked the walk, even if she wasn't the Head Cheerio anymore. She walked the walk because she <em>invented<em> that walk.

So as she rounded the corner towards the Arts corridor, she tipped her chin as if to challenge the onlookers' curiosities about why she was there. Only thirteen people knew it was Quinn's favourite hallway. After all, it held the choir room where Glee club meets, and the Art room. Her love for the Art room was more of a secret, but she loved the Arts corridor nonetheless. It was lunchtime. No one was supposed to be there. No one besides Quinn.

Quinn entered the Art room and aligned a stool in front of an easel. She opened a window to let fresh air in, and wheeled the rolling desk over and arranged her pencils, the shades varying from 9B to 8H. She had yet to start colour theory, so for now her sketchbooks were filled to the brim with pencil, ballpoint, and charcoal sketches. Quinn grabbed a large sheet of sketchpad paper and clipped it against the easel. Her hands ran along the hexagonal sides of her pencils while she took deep breaths.

She required the utmost concentration for what she was about to do. Taking a hold of her 2H, Quinn drew a curve that started in the middle of the page, undulating downwards.

"Quinn?"

Said girl's shoulders jerked up and her palm slapped the thick piece of sketchpad paper. It fell to the floor, the sheet skidding across the ground, along with her scattered pencils.

"Holy shit, Berry!" Quinn cried out, clutching her chest and scowling at the brunette who watched her in a mixture of fright and amusement. "The choir room's next door," she hissed. "And don't sneak up on me like that! Ever!"

"I'm so sorry," Rachel said walking over to Quinn and helped her pick up the pencils on the floor. Quinn grabbed the sheet from the floor and poised it over the easel once more. "I didn't know you drew! Other than the pornographic bathroom drawings of me, of course."

"Yeah well…" Quinn mumbled, thanking the brunette before sitting on the stool once more. She stared at the swell of the line, and then glanced at the girl who was still watching her. "What do you want?"

Rachel shrugged and sat on a stool quite the distance from Quinn. "I saw you after your Biology class, and I thought you were going to have lunch with the Glee club. But you weren't there, so…"

"So you decided to search for me, got it." Quinn rolled her eyes and grabbed her weapon of choice. She replicated the curve in its mirror reflection, except the amplitude was smaller. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Nothing, I suppose. Just wondering what you're up to." Rachel watched Quinn watch her with caution. "Carry on as if I'm not here."

Quinn narrowed her eyes but returned her focus on the blank sheet before her. Behind her, the autumn breeze rustled against the leaves of the trees, evoking a language that inspired a swift stroke, a dip of her pencil, and smooth lines from Quinn's palm. It wasn't long until she forgot about Rachel's presence, as she drew and drew, and drew some more.

The wind from outside screeched into the room and it threw Quinn's hair across her eyes. She huffed and reached up to brush the blonde strands away only to freeze at the sight. The wind was harsh with Quinn, but not with Rachel. If anything, the breeze howled angrily at Quinn, only to freeze at the sight of Rachel, to whisper a poem in between the strands of her brown hair.

Quinn was so shell-shocked at the picturesque quality of the girl before her that she didn't notice the wind shriek once again, throwing open the cover of her sketchbooks, revealing recent sketches of her youth. Rachel turned her attention to them and was about to reach for the well-worn book labelled '17', but Quinn's indignant yell stopped her.

"N-no, not that one!" She yelped, yanking the sketchbook away from Rachel's grasp. She pushed a different book; a fresher one but filled with sketches all the same. "T-this one's my practice book, so…"

Rachel said nothing but thumbed through the sketchbook nonetheless. She gasped at the quality of the simple pencil sketches and how they seemed to take a life of their own. At the very front page was the entire Glee club, save for Quinn. It was like a photograph, and it was Quinn who took the picture. Rachel looked up at Quinn and smiled. "You're very talented."

Quinn looked surprised. "Thanks. You can't be the only one."

The brunette giggled and shuffled through the rest. The next ones were individual portraits of Glee club at their finest. Finn behind a drum set; Mr. Schue making gestures as he taught a lesson; Puck strumming his guitar; Sam twirling about. Artie doing wheelie tricks; Mike dancing; Tina and Brittany smiling brightly like two radiant suns. Kurt sweeping his hair into perfection, Mercedes texting rapidly, Santana with her bitch face on. Rachel flipped to the next page, only for her face to fall in disappointment.

Quinn noticed this, and she struggled long and hard not to succumb into the temptation of showing Rachel the book in her arms with its tattered cover and frayed edges.

Of course, she failed.

She stood up and sat on the stool beside Rachel. She flipped through a random page and pushed it towards the pouting girl, and looked away in pure embarrassment.

"Oh my," Rachel sighed, beaming up at Quinn then returning her attention to the portrait of herself, permanently imbued in a white sheet with simple pencil strokes. "Y-you're amazing."

"You're only saying that because I drew you," Quinn teased with a smirk.

Rachel giggled and caressed her representation across the rough sketchbook paper. It was the portrait of Rachel singing her heart out, dressed in a classic attire of an argyle sweater with a matching skirt. Every detail was refined that Rachel almost doubted that it was her, until Quinn justified her doubts with a whisper.

"It's when you were singing Gives You Hell," Quinn smiled, and in an instant Rachel saw the bright red of her skirt and the way she danced and sang with the Glee club. The blonde stood up and returned to her stool while Rachel continued to admire the drawing. Picking up her pencil again, Quinn scowled at the paper and drew some more.

She wasn't aware of how Rachel thumbed through her well-worn sketchbook, wasn't aware how the singer's eyes lit up and shone as every flip revealed another image of her. Rachel dancing; Rachel smiling; Rachel fuming; Rachel sitting in class with her cheek against her palm.

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?" The artist hummed absently, scowling at the paper before drawing another line. Rachel walked quietly beside the focused girl, viewing the clean line art on the page. She continued to watch Quinn make deliberate lines all over the rough paper. Rachel narrowed her eyes as the features began to take shape. Her suspicions were confirmed when Quinn drew the infant pattern of diamonds across the sweater of the figure.

"I-is that me?"

Quinn blinked, the haze in her eyes vanishing. She lifted her charcoal stick from the sketch paper. "Umm… I—whoa."

Rachel and Quinn both speculated the drawing more closely. It was Rachel during Glee, in the viewpoint from the piano. She looked focused, her gaze as sharp as her smile. Her hands were poised on top of her lap, her lips were full, her legs a sweeping curve of perfection. It looked exactly like Rachel, made secular by Quinn's earthy sketch marks.

"I think I just took my Freudian slip to a whole new level…" Quinn mumbled.

"I look radiant. And beautiful."

Quinn gulped and glanced at her sketchbook that was in Rachel's grip. "Have you looked through the entire thing?" She asked, jerking her head towards the book in her hand. When Rachel shook her head, Quinn pulled up a stool and brushed off the chalk dust and motioned for the singer to sit. "I'll show you radiant and beautiful."

It came off as a challenge, and Rachel realized the thrill that escaped her stomach. Quinn flipped through the number of sketches and stopped before an unexpected image. It wasn't of Rachel singing or dancing—it was of her laughing, her head thrown back, her eyes slammed shut in delight. There was a shimmer to Rachel's skin, and in that instant, she believed Quinn.

She looked radiant and beautiful; happy and laughing like that.

"I couldn't remember the last time I saw you this happy," Quinn said, avoiding Rachel's gaze at all costs. "All I know is that this was when you and Finn were broken up."

Rachel bit her lip and stared at herself through the eyes of Quinn Fabray. The curve of her cheeks, the slope of her cheekbones, the tiniest blemishes of her skin… It all complemented the sparkle they both knew that hid in Rachel's eyes.

"Is this—is this how you see me?" Rachel asked as she stared into Quinn's hazel eyes, seeking out honesty that the blonde showed—if only with her. The blonde weakened, her defenses slowly crumbling around her heart. "Do I look this vibrant in your eyes, Quinn?"

The way Rachel said her name was too reminiscent of what she couldn't have, but she opted for the truth anyway. "It's not about how I see, but how I want the world to see you." Quinn said as she cleared up her belongings, storing her pencils into the metal case that protected them. "But yes, you do look that way to me."

Before Rachel could thank her, or berate her, or say anything else to her, Quinn grabbed her bag and departed. Whether she was aware that Rachel still had her sketchbook filled to the brim with her representations of the brunette, Rachel didn't know.

/

Until Glee club, that is. Rachel, early as ever, sat in her designated seat as she flipped through the book with utmost care. Every page she unveiled was another deep plunge into the irises of Quinn. Rachel couldn't believe that she could look so pure and so, incandescent to someone, especially to the prettiest girl she's ever met.

She heard distant footsteps, but she paid them no mind until they were close enough to the choir room. Rachel looked up at the perfect timing, just as soon as Quinn peeked in with her arm wrapped around her books. A squeak escaped both of their throats and Quinn yanked herself out of Rachel's line of sight.

"Quinn!" Rachel laughed, forgetting the electricity in the air. "You can't possibly think that I didn't see you! I have twenty-twenty vision, I have you know!"

The blonde mumbled incoherencies but stepped into the choir room anyway. "I was hoping you would ignore me, but I guess that was asking for too much."

Rachel sighed and watched Quinn make her way towards the back row of the risers. She watched her prop open a book and fished a pencil from her pocket to begin sketching. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Quinn answered, her focus never leaving the page.

"I still have your sketchbook."

"I know," Quinn hummed.

"Do you want it back?"

Quinn shrugged. "Doesn't matter. If you want it, you can have it. I have a pile of sketchbooks like that one at home. I don't think I'd miss it."

"A-are you sure?" Rachel asked, turning her chair to fully face Quinn instead of craning her head back. Quinn looked up at her and said nothing. "Shouldn't you save these sketches for an art portfolio? You should apply to an Arts school, Quinn."

Quinn chuckled bitterly and shook her head. "Nah, I can't do that anymore. I needed to take Art for all four years—I only took it during freshman year then it was Cheerios the entire way. Now, I don't have either."

"You thought about it." Rachel stated, blinking up at the defeated blonde, even if her shoulders were pulled back, and her spine was rigid. Quinn emanated confidence, but Rachel could see the underlying doubts and regrets buried somewhere inside the girl. "That's'—that's great."

"Yeah, well someone told me I'm worth more than just a pretty face," Quinn whispered, closing her sketchbook and returned Rachel's gaze. "And that I'm worth more than this cow town. I'll find a way."

Rachel's smile was ever so brilliant that Quinn found her palm itching and burning with a desire to hold a pencil and just unleash her pent-up frustrations. "I'll help you, if you want. You can take extra courses out of McKinley! I think there are Saturday art courses at the community centre; if you want we can take a look—"

"I'm already attending those classes, Rachel." Quinn said. "But thanks."

She was attacked by another flash bang that was Rachel's smile. "I'll only be glad to help, Quinn!"

/

A week's worth lunch breaks were spent in Rachel's company and Quinn realized that the brunette wasn't as annoying as she thought she would be. It's not to say that she wasn't completely frustrating—because Rachel was still Rachel _Berry_. Quinn was just more patient, or Rachel was mellower. Whatever the reason, Quinn and Rachel were actual friends now.

Of course, Glee club had something to say about this sensitive topic.

Quinn ignored them all.

On a Wednesday lunch period, Quinn was sitting in the middle of the Art room floor, a tarp covering the stickiness that she would never want to feel. A spanking new sketchbook tagged as number 19 was on her lap, her lunch long gone. She glanced at her phone and nibbled at her lip, forcing herself not to worry, just because Rachel was two minutes late.

The distinct pitter-patter of Mary Janes told Quinn what she wanted to know, and the huffing by the doorway solidified the information. Rachel walked in the room and landed gracefully beside Quinn, whose eyes darted to the top of the singer's damp head, then all the way down her body.

"What the hell?" Quinn blurted out, her scowl deepening.

"Karofsky," she shrugged as she straightened her skirt. "I figured it was too good to last a week without being assaulted by ice chips and food colouring. Anyways," Rachel sighed and leaned against Quinn, peeking over her arm to see the sketches. "What're you drawing?"

"You know I can only draw you when I'm zoned out," Quinn muttered.

"Yeah, but what pose—oh."

Beneath Quinn's warm palm was Rachel with the splint on her nose, unshed tears in her eyes as she sat on the stool. It was during the duet of the year, when the two girls from different edges of the spectrum collided, to sing one song that told the world about their insecurities. Rachel picked up Quinn's palm and smoothed her own fingertips against the rough sketches, gently, so as not to smudge the pencil marks.

She turned to Quinn with a pleasant smile on her face. "Are there reasons as to why you draw certain poses, or they're just random picks?"

Quinn shrugged. "I'm not too sure. I think it's a subconscious thing."

Rachel smiled and rested her forehead against the slope of Quinn's shoulder, and the blonde rested her cheek against the top of her head. The silence in the Art room was different from the silence that the choir room offered. In the choir room, the echo of their voices could still be heard. The sound of chairs scraping, being kicked about, all of them singing… But in the Art room, where the pungent smell of paints and varnishes was prevalent, it gave Rachel and Quinn a unique peace that was only specific to the two of them.

"I've always wondered," Rachel trailed off, picking up the sketchbook off of Quinn's lap and onto hers. "…why do you dedicate an entire sketchbook to me?"

"So I don't have to suffer seeing Finn's face when all I want to see is you?" Quinn grinned, nudging Rachel's cheek lightly with her shoulder. The brunette chuckled when Quinn began to laugh. "I don't really know. I'll tell you when I figure it out."

/

It was on a Tuesday that Rachel first visited Quinn in her house. It was the first time she's been in the remote location of Quinn's home and the sight of the grandiose mansion was daunting. She gulped before ringing the doorbell, only to have it answered by Mrs. Fabray.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Fabray." Rachel greeted with that smile that all the parents loved. "I'm Rachel Berry and I'm here to visit Quinn as she told me she was feeling sick early this morning." She held up a thermos. "I brought her soup. Is she available?"

"Call me Judy, dear." The older blonde gushed, allowing Rachel into the mausoleum-like house. Rachel couldn't help but feel a chill, but she braved it out and smiled at Judy Fabray. "She's up in her room feeling miserable." Judy shook her head and chuckled. "She hates being sick, that girl. I'm sure she'll feel better if you go up and visit her."

Rachel smiled and nodded as Judy took the thermos so that she could heat it up. She climbed up the stairs, trying her hardest not to disrupt any of the décor. Seeing the second door to her left, she knocked gently before entering.

Quinn was sitting up on her bed, under the duvet. Her nose was tinged pink, crumpled tissues littered her perimeter. Rachel wasn't surprised that Quinn's lap was laden with her sketchbook and her array of pencils she loved to call her weapons.

"Hey Quinn," Rachel whispered, walking over to the blonde girl who was blowing her nose. "How are you feeling?"

"Complete and utter shit," she grumbled, looking up at Rachel. Her eyes were tearing up and Rachel had to resist the urge to cradle her in her arms. "What're you doin' here? You gon' get sick."

"Nonsense," the singer grabbed the wastebasket and swept the used tissues into the bin. "We have an immune system for a reason. Here," she reached into her bag and procured four boxes of tissues. "I got you Puffs Plus, Puffs Ultra, Puffs with Vicks, and Puffs Plus with a Touch of Shea Butter." Rachel beamed at the amused look on Quinn's face. "I can't have you damaging your nose with rough, generic tissues you know!"

"Thanks," Quinn huffed, taking one of the boxes and opening it. She sighed in relief when she blew her nose, the skin no longer inflamed by the coarse texture of her own tissues. "Have a seat."

Rachel ignored her and began to fluff up the pillows against her back and rearranging the piles of books on her bedside table. "Have you finished reading these?" She asked, pointing to the stack on the floor.

"Yeah," Quinn sighed. "Rach, sit down. You don't have to do that."

Rachel hushed her and began arranging her bookshelf in alphabetical order according to title. "Rest, okay? Did you eat yet?"

At that moment, Judy decided to knock and enter with a steaming bowl of whatever soup Rachel decided to bring. "How're you doing, Quinnie?" She cooed, placing the tray on the bedside. "Rachel brought you some soup. I thought you might like it now since you haven't eaten since morning."

"Thanks ma," Quinn groaned when Judy swept the hair from her forehead.

"I have to go out for a bit." Judy turned to Rachel who was still rearranging Quinn's bookshelf. "Will you be okay to stay with Quinnie? I don't want to leave her alone."

"Of course!" Rachel smiled. "Take your time, and I'll stay with Quinnie until you get back."

Both Rachel and Judy smirked at the scowl on the sick girl's face. "Okay then, thank you Rachel." Judy stood up and left the two, but not before kissing Quinn on her warm forehead.

"Thanks," Quinn croaked, clearing her throat and blushing when she pulled the tray to her lap. "What soup is this?"

"Miso soup," Rachel quipped, grinning at Quinn's confused face. "It's made with fermented soybeans and _dashi_ but I'm not sure if your current state of mind can hold in the vast information about the intricacies of Japanese cuisine." The brunette sat on the bed beside Quinn and stirred the broth for her. "It's basically fermented bean soup with a special broth, tofu and seaweed."

"Hmmm," Quinn hummed as the sweet aroma of the miso filled her head. Rachel stirred and held up the spoon against Quinn's lower lip and she instantly opened it. "Y-you don't have to feed me."

"Shut up and eat," Rachel giggled, holding up another spoonful of the soup for Quinn to take, which she did.

/

Quinn finished the soup in less than thirty minutes, mostly thanks to Rachel's insistent coaxing. She already felt her head being defogged and her nose clearing up. Rachel was about to leave her to wash the dishes but the small whimper that escaped her throat caused the singer to stop, place the tray on the bedside table and sit beside the sweating girl instead.

"Do you need anything else Quinn?" Rachel said, soothing her fingers into the messy hair.

"No," she grumbled. "Just—just don't leave."

"Mmkay," the singer whispered, continuing her ministrations against Quinn's scalp.

In the stillness that was only filled by Quinn's congested sniffling, Rachel looked around the room that housed Quinn every day and every night, keeping her safe, being her sentinel from the world outside. The walls were a pale lilac, there were three bookshelves, and some stray books littered on the floor by her bed. What caught Rachel's eye, however, was the pile of similar-looking books on the foot of Quinn's bed.

"Those're my sketchbooks," Quinn muttered, her eyelids half-closed and watching Rachel with a droopy smile. "You can look if you want."

Rachel grazed her thumb against Quinn's perfect eyebrow before approaching the stack of books. Each one was labelled a number, and with her logic and wisdom, Rachel figured out that they were an order for something. She searched for the book with the tape that read '1' and began to flip through.

The drawings were mediocre at best, and Rachel figured that it was when Quinn was only starting. The lines were coarse, the shapes were hesitant and it didn't flow well. Most of the drawings were unfinished, but all the drawings were of one thing.

Rachel Berry.

"Yeah, I know…" Quinn murmured from her position on her bed. She struggled to sit up a bit to see Rachel's expression clearly—as well as she could with her bleary eyesight, at least. "They're ugly, but I was just starting. I was fourteen then."

Rachel nodded her head, even though Quinn's response wasn't the right response to the question in her head. She wasn't asking '_why are these drawings so bad?' _or '_when did you start drawing these?'_. The question in Rachel's head was, '_why do you have sketchbooks dedicated to me?'_

She continued to leaf through every book, running her fingers through every physical manifestation of herself against slabs of paper. Rachel saw her evolution through Quinn's hands, as well as the girl's talent improving. Lines became more deliberate, as Quinn's artistic confidence soared. Rachel travelled through time, through the eyes of Quinn Fabray, and she noticed the subtleties in every piece of art before her eyes.

The more recent ones—13 to 16—had a gravitational pull that Rachel saw but couldn't quite placate with a word or a phrase. The Rachel in the drawings was more life-like, if that was even possible. But it was, and Rachel noticed it.

"Why do you have sketchbooks filled with _me_?" Rachel asked, returning to her post beside Quinn, who was still groggy but awake. "Why couldn't you find a more beautiful model? Why me?"

"Cuz you're the only one who caught my eye," Quinn mumbled, slinging her arms around Rachel's waist and tugging her close. "I try drawing other people, but they never come off as perfect as you."

Rachel bit her lip, trying not to read too far into Quinn's ill ramblings, but the blonde continued. "You probably can't notice but when I draw you, I can make things seem more real, you know?" Quinn's face was now buried against Rachel's thigh, and the brunette can feel rather than hear the girl's speech. "When I draw Santana or Kurt, they seem flat. I dunno why, but they do."

Quinn hesitated and turned her head to look up at Rachel, who was smiling at her. "Or maybe I do know and I just don't want to tell you."

The singer giggled and smoothed out the blonde mane once more. "We'll see about that Fabray."

/

"Psst, Rach!"

The brunette's ears pricked up, as well as her lips, but she didn't look towards the direction of the hissing and the calling. She could tell that Quinn was a ticking time bomb when it comes to patience, but she loved to think that she was Quinn's only exception.

"Rachel Berry, if you don't look at me right now I will steal your lunch and eat it in front of you!"

She giggled and shook her head, still not looking at Quinn.

"Rachel!"

"What?" Rachel shrieked back, giggling at Quinn's face.

"Here, happy birthday." Quinn mumbled, throwing a small and cold object towards Rachel, who fumbled and caught it.

"It's not my birthday."

"Happy un-birthday then!" Quinn huffed, plopping down on the cool grass beside Rachel. They sat beneath the shade of the courtyard since Art students were preparing for the art show, which meant that their lunchtime hangout was out of commission. Rachel looked at the object in her hands and smiled. "Yay, vegan Chunky Monkey! Thank you Quinn!"

Quinn smiled at her then reached into her bag for her sketchbook. Rachel realized that in the past months that they've been friends, Quinn already went through three sketchbooks, all of them filled with images of her. She commented once about lacking practice with other people's appearances but Quinn merely shrugged it off by saying, "They're not really worth my time."

Rachel berated her for slacking off. Quinn sighed and practiced on Mercedes and Kurt.

She was halfway through her small cardboard cup of ice cream when Quinn began to hum. And Rachel being Rachel, she listened for a few seconds, not recognizing the tune despite her vast music library for a brain.

"What song is that?" She asked Quinn, who stopped drawing to glance up at Rachel.

"It's not an actual song," the blonde said.

"What? What do you mean?" Rachel demanded.

Quinn chuckled and shrugged. "You could say I wrote it, I guess."

Rachel clapped her hands and lunged for Quinn's stomach. They fell as a heap, Rachel going off a mile a minute about recording the song, and Quinn who was laughing at the brunette's enthusiasm. "Sing it with words, Quinn!"

"I rather not."

She squeaked and slapped Quinn's stomach. "What? Why not?"

"Because," Quinn relaxed into the grass and ran her fingers through Rachel's brown hair as she rested against the flat plane of the blonde's stomach, her fingertips tracing patterns over the shirt and through Quinn's nerve endings. "It's for you and it's a surprise."

/

Rachel waited on tenterhooks for the surprise, only to have it the same day during Glee. Everyone was already there while she was chatting with Tina about their English homework when Quinn finally entered the room almost demurely. She glanced at Rachel, then to Brad who smiled encouragingly and nodded.

"Mr. Schue?" She asked, her voice hitching against the walls of her throat. "Uhh, I have a song I'd like to sing, if you don't mind?"

"Of course Quinn!" Mr. Schue grinned at her, making a flourish with his hands and stepping away. "The floor is yours, kid."

Quinn smiled her thanks and walked up to the middle, her footsteps small and hesitant. She looked back at Brad who nodded again, and began to play an upbeat tempo that immediately made everyone in the room smile and tap their toes to the beat.

"_I don't know the first thing about love, but I do know what it means to paint and draw_," Quinn sang, swaying to and fro, her fists clenched to her sides. Rachel watched in awe at the girl before her, whose eyes never left hers. "_You're the mistress of altering octaves and me, look at me;"_ Quinn pointed to herself._ "I'm just another artist with a flaw."_

The jazz band slipped in softly, gaining volume with every passing second. Quinn gained a sliver of confidence, her stellar smile comparable with Rachel's as she danced about. "_My hands are dirty with charcoal and ink. Maybe this is how the world tells me that I can't touch you 'cuz I'm pretty sure I'll sully our pretty sync." _She stepped up to Rachel and winked, shrugging playfully. "_Ah well, what can I do but paint you?"_

The tempo rose, and so the double bass became constant and the violin trilled. "_Your eyes the same shade as the earth, your smile the same shine as the stars… I should let you know now._ _You're the paint all over my canvas, the curve that I always start with because beautiful girl,_" every instrument froze, and Quinn spoke the next segment of her lyrics while pointing at Rachel, then pointed to her left chest. "_You put the art in my heart."_

Rachel grinned, sticking her tongue out at Quinn who stepped away and pulled Brittany with her as they danced. _"I have a mountain of sketchbooks dedicated to you. You have number seventeen, but it's okay, I have twenty-one more." _She let go of Brittany's hand, who twirled to where Santana was sitting. _"I draw and I draw, I write and I write, but my feelings can never amount to the girl I adore._"

Quinn offered her hand for Rachel to take, and when their fingers wound together, the matching smiles on their faces were too bright to touch. They began to dance, Rachel's cheek against Quinn's chest, Quinn's chin against Rachel's head. _"Yeah, it's you. You should know by now it's you."_ She pulled away just enough to look at Rachel's blushing face as the rhythm slowed down and so did their swaying. "_You, with your eyes the same shade as the earth, your smile the same shine as the stars. I should let you know now…"_

Only the soft lull of the piano remained, and Rachel craned her neck to look up at Quinn who had the sincerest smile on her lips. "_You're the paint on my canvas, the curve that I always start with because beautiful girl, you put the art in my heart."_

Then there was silence as the Glee club digested the movie-like scene in front of them. Except for Santana and Brittany who were clapping—Santana not so enthusiastically. "Yay, baby gays!" Brittany squealed while bounced on her seat.

"Uhh," Finn blinked, still staring at Rachel and Quinn hugging in front of them, lost in their own universe while the swayed to a song only the two of them could hear. "What the hell?"

"How articulate, Finnidiot." Santana drawled.

"Now will you tell me why you have sketchbooks dedicated to me and only me?" Rachel teased in a whisper, poking Quinn with her nose. "Huh, Quinn?"

"I have 'em because I want to see you always," Quinn said as they continued to swing to and fro. Behind them, Glee club was fighting over when it started, who accepts them and other things that concerned Rachel and Quinn, but neither caring. "I wanted to memorize everything about you, so I can show the world just how beautiful and gorgeous you are with my eyes closed. And well," Quinn smiled and kissed Rachel's cheek. "I want people to find it when I'm dead so they'll know I'm in love with Rachel Berry before she was a star."

Rachel blushed and hugged Quinn tighter. "I know I look too far ahead," Quinn admitted, her minty breath grazing the brunette's cheek. "But how about helping me get on with one of my dreams?"

"How would I do that?"

"Would you be my girlfriend?" Quinn asked, and Rachel nodded. "That's one. How about a kiss?"

"Okay!" Kurt shrieked, stopping Rachel who was on the tips of her toes, her lips puckered. "We do not need to see this, but honeys, we're happy for you!"

The newest Glee couple beamed at him before glancing at Mr. Schuester. "We're leaving now," Quinn announced, interrupting the teacher before he could say anything else. "We'll make it up with a duet next week, but please, I'm dying to kiss Rachel. So…"

She didn't get to finish her requests as the shorter girl grabbed her bag from the floor and dragged her out of the Glee club, cheers and hoots calling in their wake.

/

Quinn pulled Rachel to the Art room—the Art room filled with displays made by the students of McKinley High. Everything was a mess as they carefully treaded through the art materials that were scattered all over the floor.

"How appropriate for our first kiss to be here," Rachel stated, looking around the paintings and sculptures by the students. She glimpsed at Quinn who was rummaging through the canvases for something. "Quinn? What are you doing?"

She said nothing until she pulled out a board and held it up for Rachel to see.

It was of Rachel, arms in front of her, wearing a black dress with a red sash around her waist. She was belting out Don't Rain on my Parade.

"I've been practicing with acrylic recently and—" Quinn chanced a look to Rachel whose eyes brimmed with tears. "Oh no, you weren't supposed to cry!" She leaned the canvas against the wall and gathered the brunette in her arms. "I'm sorry if you didn't want me to paint you. If you want, I can withdraw it from the art show—"

"It's going to be in the art show?" Rachel gasped sharply, turning to Quinn in shock. "I thought only art students can take part in it?"

Quinn smiled and kissed Rachel's forehead. "I talked to Mr. Notten and I showed him some of my work. He said I have talent and he'd write me a recommendation if I make two pieces for the show."

"What's your other piece?" Rachel asked, staring at herself, grazing her hands against the dried brush strokes of acrylic against the canvas. "Wow, I look so—"

"I did my best." Quinn smirked, pulling up another canvas, this time of the whole Glee club. "Clearly my artistic talent goes as far as Glee club and Rachel Berry." She shook her head and grinned at Rachel. "I really should practice more, shouldn't I?"

Rachel laughed and nodded. "You're really, really amazing and I want to kiss you so badly."

"Thanks," Quinn watched Rachel regard her portrait a while longer. "About that kiss?"

"Hm?"

"Can I have two?"

"How about ten?"

"Or twenty?"

No more easy banter passed by them, as both pairs of lips were occupied. Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, sighing against her lips as the world melted behind them. For once, she didn't feel the pressure of perfection in everything that she did, whether it be singing or drawing. In that single graph of time and space, she was content to hold Rachel in her arms, although in her mind she was already imagining the sleepless night she would have to suffer through as her heart burst through the seams in happiness.

Art in her heart, indeed.

* * *

><p><em>Who watched Glee Live 3D? How was it? I mean, I watched the Live Tour, but I'm not sure if it's worth it to watch the whole movie for Lea Michele. Thoughts?<em>


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